Just One Year - Claire
by Garyados
Summary: Claire and Gray fall in love after just one year. Told from Claire's POV. One chapter for each heart color. Was officially abandoned for a long time but I plan to finish soon.
1. Black Heart

_I don't necessarily want reviews, but I'd love feedback! Love it? Hate it? I really want to know._

Black Heart

Claire was expecting an elderly blacksmith at her front door, bright and early. Because of this expectation, she was naïve enough to think it would be okay to answer the door wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a baggy sweatshirt; no real clothes; no makeup; no shower. There was absolutely _no_ longing inside of her to impress Saibara.

Humming to herself, Claire opened the door during a pause that had followed two booming knocks. When she looked straight ahead – thinking a pair of grey eyes would meet hers at the same level – she saw nothing but buttons on a tan work suit. The smile on her face faded, and her brow furrowed as she looked the unfamiliar person up and down.

A faint smile betrayed the boy's lips and his pale face grew pink. He had a hard time meeting his blue eyes with hers as he muttered, "Ah, good morning."

Claire felt the urge to excuse herself as she closed the door, changed her clothes, and at least put lotion on her face, but she knew she couldn't do that without seeming rude. Instead, she practiced one of her only nervous habits – cracking her knuckles.

"Good morning," she replied. Claire's face grew warm; she mussed up her blonde hair, hoping he would introduce himself before she would have to ask.

He grabbed something he had set aside, something Claire recognized right away from the hearts she had carved into the wood of the handle – her axe, but with a new copper head – and held onto it with the bottom of it resting on one of his beat-up work boots. "I'm, uh, here to deliver your axe."

"Oh," Claire said, smiling and bending over but not laughing, surprisingly amused by her own ignorance. "I see. I was just expecting someone about a foot shorter than you and probably forty years older."

The boy gave a nervous laugh but said nothing else. Claire didn't know what else to say; she wished he would just keep talking, but he seemed to her almost as nervous as she was. Either that or he was just plain awkward. Trying to get something else out of him, she asked, "So you work for Saibara?"

A bemused look crossed his face for a nanosecond before he realized who Claire was talking about. During that nanosecond, a gust of cool wind blew through the open doorway, brushing Claire's bare legs. She shivered, wondering whether there would be a storm later. The guy watched her body tremble; Claire desperately wished she knew what was going through his mind.

"Er, yeah. He's my grandfather." He grabbed the rim of his UMA hat and lowered it so it covered part of his face. By doing that, it revealed to Claire some of his auburn hair.

Saibara's grandson gazed at the clear spring sky, and then quickly said, "Well, I hope you like your axe. It should be easier to use now." He leaned the axe against the door frame and started to leave, but Claire couldn't let him go without knowing his name.

"Wait!"

The auburn-haired boy stopped in his tracks and faced Claire again, lifting his hat so she could actually see his eyes. He seemed honestly curious about what she had to say. "Yes?"

"What's your name?" She gave him a sweet smile, hoping it would help entice him to actually tell her.

His face looked dumbstruck, as if he hadn't been asked that question in years. "Gray," he finally said.

"Gray," Claire repeated, mostly just for herself to remember. Even though her heart was pounding almost as hard as his knocks on the door were, she extended her arm, offering him her hand and a smile. "I'm Claire."

Gray hesitated, not even looking at her hand; but he eventually took it and shook it in a surprisingly firm fashion. The slightest smirk graced his face. "Claire. See you later."

That time Claire let him leave, and she watched as he strode past Odie's doghouse and off the farm. He glanced at her one last time and tipped his hat. She picked up her axe, which was noticeably lighter than she remembered and closed the door in such a way that wouldn't make a sound. After walking up to her mirror, she stared into her bloodshot eyes and at her pimpled nose. She screwed up her face in multiple ways, trying to herself feel better about the way she looked to Gray not thirty seconds before.

Dissatisfied with the condition of her face, she felt there was nothing else to do except cover it with her hands and groan as if she had just gone bankrupt.


	2. Purple Heart

_I don't necessarily want reviews, but I'd love feedback! Love it? Hate it? I really want to know._

Purple Heart

A chubby Mayor Thomas lay shirtless on a ducky-patterned towel while gargling some cheap beer; bare feet snuggling the warm sand, Claire drew a deep breath and decided to accept the unsettling display. He told Claire, back when they ran into each other at the grocery store, that the Summer Beach Festival was one of his few days off – and he seemed to be enjoying it.

Popuri dashed across the beach, pushing past Claire so hard that she almost dropped her flip flops. "Oh, Claire!" she shouted, exasperated. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

_No, but you scared me half to death_, Claire thought. She adjusted her denim shorts. "No, I'm fine."

The pink-haired girl started stepping backwards towards the Seaside Beach Café. "I was on my way over to Kai's place. You should come by, he cooks great food!"

Previous to Popuri's mention of the word _food_, Claire hadn't noticed how hungry she actually was; right then, she could hear and feel her stomach growl. She crossed her arm over her abdomen. It sounded more pathetic than Odie begging while she was making food in the kitchen.

"Maybe I'll go right now," Claire said, mostly to herself.

"Oh, that's a great idea!" Popuri exclaimed. "We can go in together!" Before Claire could stop her, the bright-eyed girl grabbed her hand and pulled. "Come on, let's go!"

The two started running across the beach, but it was too much for Claire. "Ack," she mumbled, among other grumble-words, every time she felt her empty stomach flailing around inside of her mid-body. Popuri faded right, sprinting along the shore, and Claire had no choice but to follow. Cold water splashed their legs; wet sand flew every which way, sticking to bare skin.

By the time they got to the café, Claire had gritty sand splattered like paint all the way up and down her legs, from the spaces in between her toes to the hem of her tee-shirt. Once Popuri stopped running, the blonde tried to wipe the sand off her thighs, but her friend wouldn't let her. Instead, Popuri led her into the building, as if Claire couldn't get inside herself.

Popuri scanned the shack with such determination that Claire felt the urge to help, even though Claire had no idea what – or who – Popuri was looking for. Claire's eyes glazed over the sunburned beach-goers until she noticed a vaguely familiar face, a vaguely familiar UMA hat, and a vaguely familiar pair of work boots…

"KAI!" Popuri shrieked, standing on her tiptoes and waving hysterically. Kai was probably too busy basking in his own awesomeness to hear his "girlfriend" – not to mention the fact that the tiny shack was filled to capacity – so Popuri decided to go to him instead. The shrill cry derailed Claire's train of thought; she recognized the hat and the boots from when the boy visited a few weeks before, and his name was on the tip of her tongue, but Popuri's excited squeal must have scared his name out of Claire's mouth – not to mention it must have given her permanent hearing damage.

Claire decided to try to find Kai instead, but by the time Popuri was on the other side of the room, Claire still hadn't figured out where he was. Though his signature purple bandana, tanned skin and cocky attitude were hard to miss, the blonde was unwillingly using most of her brain power already, trying to remember what the delivery boy's name was.

_What was his name?_ The thought refused to go away, so Claire just gave up on locating Kai. She maneuvered her way past all the hungry people, over to the auburn-haired boy.

A warm hand wrapped around Claire's forearm. "Hey!" a male voice shouted, but she couldn't tell whose it was just from the sound of it. She looked up, surprised at who she saw.

"Hey, Kai!" Claire shouted back, unable to control her smile. She noticed Popuri lurking behind him, holding his other hand.

"How's it going?" Kai responded. He glanced around the room with his dark brown eyes. "Hey, let's go over here." The tan boy led the two girls – one by the hand and the other by the wrist – a little ways across the floor, near where Claire's slightly mysterious delivery boy was sitting.

The blue-eyed boy glanced up and acknowledged Kai with a nod.

Kai sat down in one of his wicker chairs. "Oh, Claire, have you met Gray?" he asked. "He's a good pal of mine."

_GRAY!_ Claire suddenly recalled. _GRAY WAS HIS NAME!_

"Oh, yeah," the blonde answered, relieved she wouldn't be burdened with the awkward task of asking the boy's name. "It was a while ago, though." She smiled, as if remembering a joke from long ago. Catching Gray's eye, Claire noticed him grinning as well.

"That's awesome!" Kai said. "But Claire. Clairy Dear. Claire-Bear. What's going on with you? We haven't seen each other since-"

"Last night?" Claire interrupted, giggling.

Kai chuckled and nodded his head. "Yeah, last night. Hey, Gray, why weren't you there? It was a crazy party, man!"

"Well, I wouldn't say it was _crazy_," said Claire, recalling the events from the night before; mostly just a bunch of small talk around a bonfire. She turned away from Kai and Popuri's confused looks to the auburn-haired boy. "You really didn't miss much."

Gray nodded with understanding. "I had to work last night," he explained. "My grandfather got mad at me, so he made me stay late."

"Why did he get mad at you?" Claire asked, furrowing her brow. Before he could answer, Kai butt in, a little off topic.

"Claire, did you know you have sand _all over_ your legs?"

The blonde looked down. She had almost forgot about the gritty grossness covering her legs. Cocking her brow, Claire responded, "Yeah, I knew about the sand."

Popuri stood up and offered to help, and before Claire could refuse, the sand on her legs was being brushed off by the pink-haired girl. Claire glanced around, knowing it was pointless to resist; she caught Gray's eye again, shrugging. He was blushing.

"So, Gray, your gramps was giving you grief again?" Kai asked – Claire was surprised to find out that he _was_ listening. "What did you do this time?"

The blacksmith's grandson grinned vaguely, looking at the palms of his hands. "I dropped a tool he was working on. He didn't tell me it was still hot." Gray offered his hand to the other three, but Popuri didn't look because she was still wiping sand off of Claire's legs. The blonde heard Kai say something along the lines of "man, that's rough," then glanced over to see what they were talking about.

At the sight of Gray's hand, Claire winced. His palm was brick red and peeling.

When Popuri's brushes started to feel like slaps, Claire recoiled; she said, "Well, I should get going. It was nice talking to you guys."

"Wait," Popuri shouted, "you didn't get any food!"

Before Claire could insist she was fine, Kai shouted, "Oh, I should probably get Gourmet out of the kitchen! He's had enough fun for one day." Kai stood up, kissed Popuri's hand, and said, "I bid you all adieu." The tan boy left; Popuri held her hand near her cheek, dazed.

"Gray, is your hand going to be okay?" Claire asked, resisting the urge to reach for it.

His blue eyes met hers, and she could tell he appreciated the concern. "Yeah, I'll be fine." He shrugged. "I've had worse."

Claire's brow furrowed and she pursed her lips; she rubbed her legs where Popuri attacked them, and she said, "Are you sure?" Gray's nod in response didn't feel like enough, but she didn't press on. "Okay. I'll see you later then."

Gray nodded again, and Claire made her way through the mob of people one last time. After digging her feet back into the sand, her stomach moaned like a lonely monster; it ached worse than stomach flu. The blonde dropped her flip flops on the ground and slid her feet into them. She walked home with gritty sand crunching between her feet and her flip flops with each step, wondering if she had enough food in the refrigerator for a whole meal.


	3. Blue Heart

_The views-to-comments ratio is rather scary. I don't like being scared._

Blue Heart

If it weren't for Claire's lack in the ability to live without food for a few weeks, she wouldn't have stopped by the blacksmith's almost every day to say hi. Unfortunately, a wild dog chewed up most of Claire's summer crops, and her spring crops were less than abundant. Because of that, she was forced to sell the remainder of her farm-grown cucumbers and turnips so she could buy some food from the grocery store – and breakfast at Doug's Inn some mornings. Sometimes she would go to the Chicken Farm to mooch their eggs, but after a while they told her she wasn't allowed to eat their eggs anymore unless she bought a chicken herself. Needless to say, she stopped taking their eggs; she did, however, begin to accept some dairy products from Yodel Farm. Barley, the old man who ran Yodel Farm, was much nicer to her.

Whether she was headed for Doug's Inn or Yodel Farm, the blacksmith was on the way there and on the way back, so Claire ended up visiting Saibara and Gray quite often. She would usually get some food and bring it to the blacksmith, then talk to Gray and Saibara until something coaxed her outside; most of the time it was Gray reminding her that she didn't have food at home, and she needed to get back to work if she wanted to have any in the future.

One day, Saibara stroked his white beard while watching the blonde girl sit on the floor and nibble on a block of cheese.

"Is that really what you're eating for breakfast?" Saibara queried with a disapproving tone. Claire nodded, afraid of what his response might be. She looked to Gray with wild eyes for possible guidance or advice, but only glanced up from his work once. The old man stood up from his own workbench – at which he had not been working – and went into his bedroom.

"What do you think he went to get?" Claire asked, slightly paranoid that it might be some supernova version of an axe he had secretly been working on in the middle of the night, all mad-scientist-y and whatnot.

Gray shrugged. Without straying from the hoe Claire had brought in, he said, "You really should eat more than just a brick of cheese for breakfast, though."

"It's not like I have much of a choice right now…" Claire trailed off. The hard, concrete floor caused her butt to fall asleep, so she placed the block of cheese in her lap and adjusted the way she was sitting. The two stayed quiet for a while, while Claire watched her friend hammer away. Watching Gray focus so hard on her hoe, which was so old that it broke because it just felt like it, caused her to forget for a moment about the scolding she was likely to receive from Saibara.

The door to Saibara's bedroom opened, and Claire's stomach dropped. She kept her eyes glued to the old man as he made his way back to his workbench. He set a box on the table, and Claire could see after craning her neck that it was filled with cereal.  
"Here," Saibara grunted, tossing the box to Claire, who just barely caught it but tried to make it look like she was always good at catching things.

Claire clutched the box with her calloused hands and muttered a "thanks" before tearing it open. A cloud of stale cereal smell puffed out and filled her nose, making it hard to breathe for a second. For a while, the room was absent of human voices – just the sounds of Claire crunching cereal, Saibara's feet kicking against the table legs, and Gray's occasional arrhythmic hammer pounding.

Suddenly, Claire remembered something. "Oh – guys, are you going to the Fireworks Festival tomorrow night?"

Before either of them answered, Gray slowed his work and looked to his grandfather to see what he would say.

"Well," Saibara considered, tapping his foot, "I probably will, but whether or not Gray will is just a question of whether or not he can finish his work on time."

Gray gawked at the old man, halting his work completely. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Saibara turned around and impatiently explained, "If you don't fix Claire's hoe before the festival tomorrow –"

"_Gah!_" Gray interrupted, fed up with his grandfather's nonsense. He took a few steps away from his workbench and slammed his hands on Saibara's table – Claire flinched at the sound of skin-meets-steel, and she wished she knew something like this would've happened before she asked the simple question. The auburn-haired boy eyed Saibara skeptically. "You know tomorrow's my _day off_, right?"

Saibara didn't say anything for a moment, then calmly answered his grandson, "If you don't get back to work right now, you won't finish by tomorrow."

Gray glared at him, unable to think of something he could say or do to change Saibara's mind. Claire attempted to solve the situation.

"Guys," she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious because they both turned to look at her intently, "guys, I don't need the hoe anytime soon." The blonde hoped with all her might that what she was saying was true. She focused her attention on Saibara. "Gray can work on it today, and if it's not finished, I won't mind at all."

Claire could see Gray's blue eyes soften as he gave her a slight grin; she smiled back at him. Saibara cut their moment short by saying, "Claire, you're a sweet girl, but Gray has to learn how to work hard."

Gray dropped his gaze to the floor and let out a sigh, still bent over Saibara's table. Picking up her block of cheese and the box of cereal, Claire stood up and said, "Well, if Gray can't have his day off until my hoe is done, then I should leave; I'm distracting him when he should be working."

She half-expected Saibara to reply with something like, "No, stay, it's great that you're distracting my incompetent grandson! I love to watch him fail!" but all he said was, "Okay, goodbye, Claire." Gray turned his head so he was looking at Claire sideways as she shot him an apologetic look and muttered a goodbye.

X X X X X

Kai's face was so close to Claire's that she couldn't help inhaling the alcohol smell on his breath as he confessed with slurred words, "You know, if I wasn't so madly in love with Popuri, I would totally date you."

Normally, Claire would have no trouble coming up with either a flirty or a facetious comment to respond with, but the tan boy's breath was so rancid that the stench alone made her feel intoxicated. Suddenly, a shout from the distance saved her from saying something stupid.

"Hey, Kai!" Claire and Kai turned to see who it was. Though the sky was pitch black and the stars were out, bonfires were placed sporadically throughout the beach and created enough light for her to legitimately see Gray's face; she felt a wave of relief wash through her body as he approached the two. "Are you harassing Claire?"

"Yes he is," Claire answered before Kai had a chance to respond. She nudged Gray with her shoulder and requested in a whisper that they ditch Kai; Gray nodded, and the blonde girl glanced at Kai before deciding she didn't need to come up with a lie as to where they were going – he was too drunk to comprehend anyway.

Hands cupped around his mouth, Kai yelled, "Have fun, you crazy kids!" – not even noticing the befuddled glances from some of the other Fireworks Festival celebrators.

Once Claire and Gray were out of Kai's earshot, Gray asked, "How much did he have to drink?"

Claire shrugged. "I saw him take a few shots, but Goddess knows what else he took tonight." She giggled at her own joke, and Gray shortly caught on. A small sting on the top of her foot caused her to wonder if the mosquitoes would bother showing up when the bonfires were numerous; she dug it into the cool sand, trying to ignore it. When it didn't go away, she took her foot out of the sand to ascertain her original thought – sure enough, a red spot was welting up.

"Ooh," Gray murmured, "that's a nasty mosquito bite."

"Yeah," Claire agreed, "almost as nasty as Kai's breath." Once again, she was amused by her own joke. She looked up at Gray's normally pale face, but was then glowing orange due to the fires. "So, you got your day off?"

The aspiring blacksmith kicked the sand, avoiding Claire's gaze. "Yeah, barely," was all he said.

Claire watched the sand fly away, then realized something different about Gray's legs. "You're wearing shorts!" Gray's facial expression changed from sheepish to bewildered instantly. Before he could manage to say anything, Claire continued, "Wow, I bet your legs are super pale. I can't tell right now, though; it's too dark outside." He laughed nervously before the girl got back on track. "So, what do you mean, _barely?_"

"Oh," Gray answered, back to being sheepish. "I, uh, didn't finish your hoe until around five o'clock."

"Five o'clock?" Claire's eyes bugged out. "You mean, less than four hours ago, five o'clock?"

Nodding, Gray confirmed, "Yes, less than four hours ago; five o'clock."

She looked up at him with both eyebrows raised. Claire couldn't help feeling guilty, even though she was aware that she hadn't actually done anything; she tried turning the situation into a joke. "Oh, Gray, I'm _so sorry! _I should have fought harder for your freedom."

Gray patted Claire's head, trying to console her. "No, you don't have to fight for my freedom. Hell, I don't have to fight for my freedom – at least not on my day off!" After considering what he said, Gray revised his statement. "Well, I _shouldn't_ have to." He grinned, silently chuckling at his own joke.

Claire was unable to understand why Gray was able to laugh at things like his own grandfather imprisoning him inside a small, dark room that lacked an air conditioner – and during the warmest and most outdoorsy of the seasons! _Then again, _she considered, _he's probably been exposed to so much of this treatment for so long that he now finds amusement from it._

"No," Claire agreed, jerking her head out from under his constant patting. She gazed into his eyes, which were colorless in the dim lighting, and couldn't help smiling. "You _shouldn't_ have to." A breeze flew by, causing a puff of hot smoke to brush past Claire's bare legs. She sighed, looked down, then back at his face. For some reason, she felt that nothing she said would make herself feel better, and he didn't seem to need some words of encouragement. She gave sort of a half smile. "I want to go to the dock; do you want to come with me?"

"Uh," Gray started, glancing over to the dock, then around the beach. He took a moment to consider. "No, thanks," he finally decided.

"Okay," Claire said, "I'll see you later then." She turned away from the boy and strode across the beach, over to the dock. A cool, salty breeze enticed her to come closer; she sat on the dock and allowed her feet to dangle in the surprisingly lukewarm water.

Sitting there alone, breathing in fresh ocean air, was as uplifting and as refreshing as a forty-minute nap – it was even soothing her mosquito bite. As fireworks danced across the sky, it reminded her of a song she knew. Softly to herself, she sang, "_And the colors looked like fireworks in skies she knew before…_" Claire hummed the rest of the tune, staring at the moon; she was amazed at how bright and full it was that night. _You'd never see this in the city_, she mused.

Glancing over her shoulder, she found an unsettling sight: Gray and Mary, the plain-Jane librarian, sitting on a log by a bonfire. Mary's dark hair was in a braid, like it always was, and the glasses she wore overbore her face – like always. Claire's breath caught in her throat when she saw Mary doubled over laughing, keeping her glasses on her face with one hand and lightly touching Gray's toned arm with the other. The auburn-haired blacksmith was facing away from Claire, but the look on Mary's face told her more than she needed to know.

Suddenly, sitting there alone felt like the loneliest place in the world.


	4. Green Heart

_Comments/Feedback = a place on my "I Love These Kids" list forever...and an internet bro-fist._

_Note: I couldn't resist the hat cliché._

Green Heart

With a smile on her face and a bottle in each hand, Claire closed the door of Aja Winery, turning left with intentions of visiting Doug's Inn before heading home. The blonde farmer hadn't even walked two steps before bumping into a tall and sturdy male figure.

"Sorry," Claire muttered, at first not knowing whose body she collided with. After taking a step back, she recognized the familiar UMA hat and pale complexion; her face lit up. "Gray!"

"Hey, Claire," he muttered, surprised by the sudden encounter. He eyed the wine bottles. "What are you up to?"

"Oh," she said, recalling that the only reason she was headed to Doug's Inn in the first place was to share a bottle of wine with Gray before being forced to converse with some fairly judgmental family members. She had planned on being nonchalant about it, all, "I just _happened _to be in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by…" Claire started to turn back towards the direction that would take her to her farm house. "I was on my way home. Do you want to come with me?"

Gray grinned, but his brow furrowed. "Um, sure. But weren't you headed this way?" He pointed in the direction she had originally been going.

The blonde nodded her head. "Yes I was."

"But," he pressed on, "your house is this way." He pointed in the opposite direction.

Claire shrugged, face flushed. She couldn't let him know the real reason why she was going the _wrong_ way. "Maybe I wanted to take the long way home."

Unable to hold back a smile, Gray took a few steps in her original direction and said, "We can still take the long way home if you want. It _is_ your birthday, after all."

Soon they were ambling past Doug's Inn, past the flower patch, and through Rose Plaza. They rolled up their pants and took of their shoes, roaming the cool shores of Mineral Beach. Claire shivered, screaming or squealing every time the cold water rushed past her bare legs; they began to wonder out loud why they thought wading through the ocean in the middle of Autumn was a good idea in the first place.

On their way to Claire's farm house, barefooted and cold, Claire hopped along the cobblestone pathway, focused on not touching the cracks between stones with her feet. She was hoping it would delay their arrival to the boisterous family members she dreaded returning to.

When they passed the blacksmith, Gray asked, "Did my grandfather give you your present yet?"

The blonde girl raised her eyebrows. "You guys actually talked about something without biting each other's heads off?"

"Nah," Gray replied, "he yelled at me for ages to get you something." His brow furrowed, and he made his voice gruff in order to impersonate Saibara. "He was all, '_I bet she'd look really nice in jewelry!_' and '_Maybe she'd like a free tool repair!_' for almost two weeks."

"Well, I _would_ look really nice in jewelry," Claire deadpanned, "but Saibara already got me a free tool repair, and I have a feeling you didn't get me jewelry." She jumped in front of Gray and blocked his path; she faced him fully, eyeing him mock-skeptically. "What _did_ you get me, anyway?"

The blacksmith cocked an eyebrow and put a hand on one of his hips. "If you had asked that while we were anywhere else in town," he began to explain, "I would have just taken it out and given it to you." The auburn-haired boy patted his chest, and Claire figured he must have a secret pocket on the inside of his work suit. "However," he continued, grabbing Claire's shoulders and turning her around. He pointed towards her house, which was in plain view. "You see that?" Claire nodded. "That's your house, and it's less than a hundred yards away, so don't tell me you can't wait until we get there."

Claire sighed heavily, pretending as if all her dreams had been crushed. "_Fine_."

They walked for a short distance, and Claire was unable to contain a smile before she mentioned, "Do you know what I really want?"

Gray's blue eyes watched Claire nervously, perhaps as if he was hoping it wasn't something he had considered getting, but then opted not to. "…What?"

Claire's face twisted into a malicious smile; Gray's pale face turned pink in response. "I want you to take off your hat and let me wear it for a day."

The blacksmith shot down the idea immediately. "Absolutely not."

Every time Claire tried to convince him, Gray would firmly say, "No," or, "I don't think so," before she could get out more than, "_BUT GRAY!_"

For the next fifty or so yards, Claire acted like she was pouting, but she secretly had a plan. As soon as she passed Odie's doghouse, she gently placed the wine bottles behind it and jumped for Gray's hat – with success. Gray shouted, "Hey!" and tried to grab it back, but Claire had already started sprinting away, laughing.

"You should've seen it coming!" Claire cried, running behind her currently empty chicken coop.

When Gray caught up, he didn't go behind to where Claire was, but stayed a fair distance away, as if she were a wild animal and he didn't want to trigger her running away again. He scowled. "Yeah, I should have. Can I please have it back?"

Claire grabbed the rim of his hat with both hands and read what it said – what it always said – UMA. "Hey, Gray, what does U.M.A. stand for?" She couldn't help giggling, knowing she had the most control over what happened in the situation. "Is it your alma mater?"

"No!" he shouted, then sighed. He explained warily, "It's like a word. Uma. I think it means _horse_ in Japanese."

"Why do you have a hat that says _horse_ in Japanese?" Claire called out, sort of confused.

"I don't know!" Claire could tell he was getting a little bit irritable, which made her giggle some more. "I found it in my grandfather's attic a few years ago and just started wearing it! Now can I please have it back?"

"Hmm," Claire said, teasing the blacksmith a bit by pretending to consider. "Not yet!" The blonde was just having too much fun.

Gray had had enough; he lunged at her, and Claire screamed, trying to run away. He had her trapped against the chicken coop wall, and Claire tried to play keep away. The blacksmith found this annoying. "Gray," she said, commenting on something she didn't notice before. "You don't have any tan lines on your face from this thing. Your forehead is the same color as the rest of your face!"

"You know," he muttered, still trying to capture his hat, "I don't tan very well."

"Well you're pretty pale," she mentioned. "Don't you burn a lot?"

"_AHA!_" Gray shouted, grabbing hold of his beloved, ratty hat. They both had a grip on it, and it was well over Claire's head. The blonde and the blacksmith stopped moving, realizing that Gray had almost pinned Claire to the side of the building. Their faces were inches apart, and Claire glanced at his lips; for the first time, she noticed how soft and inviting they looked.

The two of them breathed heavily for a few seconds, allowing sweat to accumulate on their faces, before Gray answered, "I guess that's what they make sunscreen for."

Claire's face grew warmer, and she wondered how much of it was due to the actual running that took place. She felt her back arch and her lips curl a little but didn't remember consciously thinking about it. Without taking her eyes off of Gray's mouth, she joked, "Maybe I should try it sometime."

She looked into the blacksmith's eyes and saw his face harden at the glance. He backed away, saying, "I'm going to go to the library." Claire's heart fell through to her stomach as he unzipped his work suit to reveal a tight white t-shirt, barely noticing the way it showed off his defined chest; he reached in and grabbed a piece of paper. Gray snatched his hat out of Claire's hand, placed it on his head, and handed her the paper. "Happy birthday," he said, smiling just a touch before walking off the farm.

The blonde unfolded it before he was even halfway across the field. She didn't pay attention to the yellow square tucked inside and focused on the unruly scrawl she recognized as Gray's:

_Winter's coming, and you don't have enough food. You need food. So, when you think you're ready, stop by Poultry Farm to grab yourself a chicken. Make sure you're eating its eggs and not the chicken itself, because a whole chicken is only good for about three meals._

On the yellow square piece of paper were some cartoon chickens along the borders and it said: _The owner of this coupon has received half a chicken as a gift. Come by during our open hours to pay for the rest of it._

Claire folded the yellow square and put it in her pocket, then slid down the side of the empty chicken coop and stared blankly at Gray's note, not actually reading it.

_He's one thoughtful guy_, she mused.


	5. Yellow Heart

_This is the most adult of all the chapters, only because Karen's drunk, Gray's buzzed, Rick says "ass," and porn is mentioned briefly. It's actually not as bad as I just made it out to be. Hope you enjoy :D_

_Comments/Feedback = burning, passionate love for you and your family._

Yellow Heart

Claire knew Gray was buzzed. She was sober, but she had an unusual feeling in her gut that prolonged her optimism; that's why she didn't suggest leaving after his third glass of wine.

After watching Barley win the sheep festival – no surprise there – Karen suggested to a few people that they head on over to Doug's Inn for some drinks and some food. Hoping to see one of Karen and Duke's infamous drinking contests, Claire agreed to tag along. They eventually did have a drinking contest, and after Karen won, Duke went home. Rick tried to force Karen to go home too, but she refused. "You're too drunk!" he yelled at her; she wouldn't listen. Rick decided to let her stay, as long as he stayed with her and she didn't drink any more alcohol.

"Claire!" Ann shouted across the table. She was holding Cliff's hand, but tried to hide it under the table – as if nobody already knew. The redhead laughed. "Claire, I can't believe you got Gray to come out with us!"

Gray, luckily for Claire, was in the bathroom when she said that. "Yeah," she replied, "I can't believe it either!" Her stomach dropped and her face flushed as she recalled the conversation she had with him hours before, but she kept her expression the same. "He told me he was just going to go to the library afterwards!"

"Well," Rick said, allowing Karen to sleep on his shoulder, "you must be one hard-ass negotiator then." Karen stirred, so Rick repositioned himself to make her more comfortable. "He never comes out with us, which is weird, because I know he likes wine." Rick paused, then added, "He always seemed sort of like a loner."

"He's not a loner," Claire defended. She tried to cover herself. "Besides, I bet he doesn't like wine as much as Karen does."

As the table roared with laughter, Gray stumbled back into his seat next to Claire. "What did I miss that was so funny?"

"Oh, we were just talking about wine," Claire answered, gazing at the auburn-haired boy.

"Ah," he replied. He shot Claire a smile which made her heart beat faster. "I love wine."

"We know you do," Rick said. Claire felt as if it was butting into their conversation, but she tried not to look too disappointed. Suddenly, Karen woke up. Rick smiled and spoke softly. "Good morning, sleepy head."

"Good morning," Karen slurred with a yawn. She sat up and looked around the table, her gaze freezing on Claire and Gray. "When did they start dating?"

Claire and Gray both blushed and looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Claire tried to explain. "We're not –"

Karen cut her off. "They weren't dating _before_ I went to sleep..." Then the brunette's eyes bulged. She looked at Rick. "How long was I sleeping?"

Rick calmly explained to her, "You were sleeping for almost an hour, and Gray and Claire aren't dating…" The blonde boy glanced at the two, then continued quietly, "… yet."

The drunk girl gasped. "Wouldn't it be so cute if they started dating right now?"

"They're talking about us like we're not even here," Gray mentioned to Claire, who nodded; they both found it rather amusing.

"You two should kiss!" Karen suggested to Claire and Gray. Ann and Cliff giggled, secretly agreeing with Karen.

Gray and Claire locked eyes, caught off guard and embarrassed, but smiling, as if to say "_Wow, she's really drunk._" Claire's heart began to beat faster, and she glanced at his lips. She badly wanted her own lips to touch his, but she never imagined it to be a show for a bunch of drunk people to watch. "I don't know if-"

But once again, Karen cut her off. Pounding her fists on the table rhythmically, she chanted, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Claire gazed into his blue eyes; they were dilated. _Most likely from the drinks_, she figured dismally. His pale face was flushed bright pink – a look she tended to find horribly attractive – but she figured once again that it was most likely from the drinks. His auburn hair was messy underneath the UMA hat, and he never bothered changing out of his work clothes, even though he was living in one of the rooms upstairs. She then stared at his soft lips, unable to control the way she was breathing through her mouth. At that moment, she felt more sexual tension between him and her than she had ever felt with anybody in her entire life; "Kiss!" had never before sounded so tempting.

The blonde girl's heart raced; she was scared because for the first time in a while, she couldn't read him. Her stomach dropped once again when she started to wonder what was going on through his mind _He's probably thinking, "What about Mary? If I kiss Claire, will she ever forgive me?"_ She had a hard time looking at him again.

"How about this?" Karen slurred, bringing Claire back to reality. "What if I gave you both 500G? I'll give you both 500G if you guys kiss!"

Claire tried to make it seem like she was more interested in the money, praying to dear Goddess and to anyone else who would listen that it was enough to make him say yes. "500G? Gray! That's enough for five loaves of bread! Or a pack of pumpkin seeds!"

Gray suddenly looked like a deer in headlights. "But Claire," he tried to reason, "if we take the money, that would make us prostitutes."

"No it wouldn't," Claire answered. "That would make us…" She thought for a moment. _Taking money from someone who is paying to see you kiss…?_ "… porn stars."

His expression remained aghast. "Do you really want to be a porn star? Is that_ really_ what you want, Claire?"

She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "No, not really."

"Good," he said. "No money then."

"So, are you gonna do it then?" Ann asked, urging them with a smile.

The two of them looked at each other again; Claire shrugged, coming up with things she could say to persuade him if he didn't make a decision. _We're best friends! We hug all the time! What could one little kiss do? It's not like a kiss is going to change anything._

…_It's not like a kiss is going to change anything._

Oh, how she hoped that wasn't true.

"Well…" Gray muttered, shrugging back. He lifted his hat slightly. "Sure."

Claire couldn't see for herself, but she could imagine that she was blushing crimson; all she knew was that her face was burning hot and she felt as if she was floating. The blonde girl hesitated, just to make sure it was all actually happening, but Gray decided to just go for it.

At first, the two kissed as if they were twelve years old and had no idea what they were doing, but they eventually relaxed, soft lips dancing on one another. Claire savored the faint taste of wine on his lips; Gray pulled away, probably because he suddenly remembered the spectators, who were cheering. Claire stared at her own glass of water, face burning and heart racing.

"Yay, now they're _dating!_" Karen squealed. "Now we can all go on double dates!" She looked around the table, counting on her fingers. "Er – triple dates!"

As Karen hooted and hollered, Rick suggested once again that he take her home. Claire licked her lips, tasting what would turn out to be a bittersweet reminder. Gray got up and went to the bathroom again, and the blonde caught a glimpse of his brick red face; she prayed to the Goddess once again, asking her to make him forget about it by morning, which was something she never thought she'd be praying for.

A sick feeling continued to grow inside of her, gnawing away at her stomach and her heart; she had a hunch that, were he sober, he would not have been quite as complaisant.


End file.
